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the lost girl Jan 2017
contemplating suicide
I remember how my life
was like
watching you with those girls
I could only run or hide
you can't see how it hurts
that every time I end up
with my knife
contemplating suicide
under the tree house
we built when we're child
how far we've come
separated but we got along
contemplating suicide*
one last thing I only want
bury me in all the colors
and all the flowers
which are faded and dark
with a rainbow out of blue
faded in darkness of the night
standing on bridge
ready to jump
ready to fly
*with no hope, no fear
Poetic T Oct 2016
I opened them up just slightly, then in haste I departed
there creases and all that was inside spilt upon the floor.
I learnt from my first mistake, this wasn't the first time I had
opened one up. But the realization over took my needing and
what was within expelled so much held within,
mistaking what was and now spilt on the surroundings.

The next time I emptied them gently in to the tub,
I was slightly strange but I preferred to cut two open then
miss them in essence, I was hungry for what they had to give
and once I had my fill I discarded then to the side lingering
in a mess of what once was and what was partly tasted
sodden in the essence I had partaken to envelope them both in.

A few days later I had a taste for something different,
so I delved my knife into it. So seductive to watch
it break upon the skin, I scraped upon it and I licked
the knife like it was a lolly pop weeping essence on
my tongue. Then I spread it on the other then I lacerated
cutting it with a blunt knife, lusting the feel on my palm.

Do you know how long it takes to cut deep with a blunt
instrument. Time, and I adored the pleasure of the misery that
I felt when I finally ****** through from front to aft. I put the
blade down, and that piece that had became singular was now
digested within myself and it was salty going down. I ******
cereal every morning the aroma when descending exquisite.
Jacob Haines Oct 2016
It was supposedly a birthday gift,
this long-legged razor's edge.
My brother must've seen me
watching it's live demonstrations.

Little did he know,
how skilled I thought myself to be.

The wrapping came off easily.
It was crudely shredded by a lesser blade
soon to be replaced.
Then the weapon itself glared at me
through the clear plastic window of its box.
Unsheathing it then, I felt its power come to me,
two steel legs spreading for a ****** murderer.

I probed it meticulously, the blade
caught the light and somehow swallowed it
before its appendage whirled across to conceal it.
This was a knife with thoughts.

Then I tried my first trick.
The blade danced elegantly,
and though I held on (for dear life)
it wanted to escape from my clutches.
I was caging it gracelessly between my fingers
and its first prerogative was to be free.
Still holding tight, it changed tactics,
a blood thirst radiating from within.

The next move would be my last.
For one split-second it escaped the probation of my palms,
somersaulting through the air above me.
It pointed downwards for a final coup de grâce.

I divorced myself from the weapon that day,
stitches adorned my bloodied hands
and the blade was taken as evidence,
though for what trial I never discovered.

My brother tossed it into the sea, I found,
legs still spiralling, blade still sharp.
This is probably why this type of knife is banned in most countries; if you don't use it properly, it can be a double-edged sword.
Viseract Oct 2016
My sister asked how I got my scars
That run half the length of my lower left arm
Casually, almost offhand, I asked her why
"If I had cuts like that I'd cry"

"Well little sister, perhaps it's best
If I lay your mind to rest
And say that I was not okay during this time
And we should focus on the present rather than what is behind"

She was satisfied with this, but I was not
My heart burst so hard, like I was shot
I want to protect her from this torturous truth
That "I was not okay" and was tempted to try the noose

More like the knife, I even had a plan
Yet I'm better now, I don't understand
Just like my little sister, things confuse me
Like what's in my head and what is reality
elizabeth Sep 2016
I could end it all;
Right here, right now.
I'm home alone,
And I shouldn't be.
I'm dangerous.
I'm ugly.
I'm stupid.
I'm an addict.
I'm awful.
They shouldn't have left
Me all alone with my thoughts.
Because my thoughts
*May just get the best of me.
September 29, 2016
Aarushi Vijay Sep 2016
It has never been this way.
Never has anything killed me for this long,
Never has anything drawn me closer to life,
Never has anything been killing me with a brutal knife.

And you say, it has been love all this while,
Oh, maybe!
Maybe, it was love all this while.
Diána Bósa Sep 2016
The ever-haunting
smile of yours cuts me like the
sharpest of all knives.
Viseract Sep 2016
Something that I try to fight
You fight it too, in dark or light
Together we can win, across the distance and time
My Nightmare that fights me, sometimes he makes me blind

Do not fall to the voices in your mind
That make you cut, leave a ****** sign
Time heals but leaves a scar
When it's over, do not forget your past

Rant, rave, spit or talk
You and I, we walk the walk
The path we dread is a path we share
The demons in the dark, the knife, the snare

Watch my step and I'll watch yours
Together we can unlock closed doors
Find a reason not to, rather than one to do so
It's working for me, why not you, y'know?

I hope you read this, but do not ignore
For me to write this was quite the chore
To have such pained effort fall when it's so near
Would be a reason to cut, ear to ear

I think you're beautiful, regardless of what you believe
For our eyes and mind can trick and deceive
When nobody trusts, compliments or gives hope,
Know that I do, though my responses are slow

Sleep well, my <3
At least, try to rest
Restlessness is eagerness
But eventually, is Death

And I do not wish to lose someone like you

An Insomniac and Pyromaniac message each other... one's mind does burn, the other wishes to burn everything in mind...
<3 you, Maddii
Dark Delusion Sep 2016
Finding the love of your life.
Never thinking of their true selves.
Never seeing the hidden knife.
Only seeing ourselves.

Never acknowledge the bad side
After everything you’ve done.
I’m no longer the one to decide.
I’m no longer allowed to have fun.

Smiles turns to cries.
Minds turns to stone.
Eyes turns to ice.
We’re all just another clone.

You can't hide the truth from me.
I’ve known it all along.
But it’s too late to be free.
I can no longer be strong.

You came to my house to say goodbye.
Left a present of our memories with a bad smell.
I knew everything was just a lie.
The only thing you gave me were dead flowers from hell.
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